By Silent Majority Read online

  One o’clock rolled around and the Senator was back from a private three-martini lunch. He got wind of what the newspapers thought of his quick getaway that morning. Like a suspected criminal, you run, you’re guilty.

  Daniel and Peter were waiting nervously inside Senator Bratton’s office. They didn’t speak at all. Peter was hoping that the Senator had a good lunch meeting because his career plans required it. The job satisfied every itch he had, the policymaking itch, and an executive’s itch. To one day work for the President of the United States. Peter Spark’s power would be expansive.

  The Senator walked around his desk. He had a look of pain on his face. This was not good news.

  “Well, fellas, I’m finished.” The Senator took a deep sigh and tears began to well up in his eyes. He lost his sense of humor. Like a child he succumbed to short-term gratification and didn’t account for the long term consequences. “I’m going to finish out the term but—” The Senator looked down at the floor. “ . . .I’m not going to seek re-election.”

  Daniel and Peter sighed in disappointment. “We’re going to be dragged down too, aren’t we?” Bratton looked at Peter and ignored his comment. He looked at Daniel and continued to speak.

  “You have dreams and goals. You get tempted by human urges. It’s stupid. I’ve tried to do some good. I did some good. I tried to be an apolitical politician. But it’s impossible. Ends justifying the means. That’s the way it is. Don’t let any self-righteous idiot tell you otherwise. You have a goal. If you have to make a deal, maneuver, do it. It’s avoiding the appearance of indiscretion. That’s it. It’s not the indiscretion by itself. You see what I’m saying?” Daniel heard the Senator, but wasn’t taking in what he was saying. He felt sorry for him. All right, he was stupid. What did he do, though? He got nailed for something that gave the appearance of wrongdoing. So fuck him. So fuck me. Daniel wanted to know the underlying reason for failure. Why did Bratton do it? Urges, that was nonsense.

  “My relationship with my wife wasn’t a loving sharing giving anymore. It was like a contract. A partnership agreement. It was a contract with the terms created by trial and error, by penalties and rewards, which kill the romance and intimacy, the drive to want to be together through love,” Bratton said.

  “Isn’t that compromise,” Daniel asked. Bratton nodded.

  “But the distinction between love and business is blurred. I didn’t want to make deals with my wife. I suppose that now that I fucked this woman I’m not a great speaker or as politically astute anymore. And if I weren’t caught, now that really crystallizes the issue, no one would know. You see? It wouldn’t matter. I mean Jesus Christ, I’m not on drugs. I’m not dangerous. I didn’t take money. Something like that would be inexcusable. I mean at least the old equipment still works. You’d think the American people would like that.”

  Peter chimed in. “Terry, you know the rules.”

  “Yeah, what do you care? I’m just your fucking ticket to Congress or the White House, right Peter?”

  “Goddamn it! I fuckin’ trusted in you. I believed in you.” Peter stood up and yelled. “I was about you! I wasn’t using you. I was for you. You broke the contract, asshole. I was always a hundred percent loyal.”

  “Yeah, you really helped with that cloak and dagger stuff with that—” The Senator stuttered. Daniel shifted in his seat, flustered. He didn’t know what Bratton and Peter were talking about.

  “I did that for you. You asked me to do something. I bear responsibility for my mistakes. For my actions. Now you have to. What the hell did you tell my wife to deny it for? That’s what fucked it up you idiot!”

  Senator Bratton turned his attention to Daniel. “Learn something here Daniel. Don’t work for a man you admire, you’ll only be disappointed when you learn that he’s human. Okay, Peter, you want the straight deal. Sit down. I just came from a lunch with the head of the Party. They want Daniel to be the next elected Senator.” Peter was in shock. Daniel was very surprised but he was elated. “And I agreed. Good news, huh, Daniel? I know it’s a shock to you, Peter.”

  “No, Peter should have the support of the party,” Daniel said. His elation withered away.

  “Save your breath, Daniel.” Peter responded. “Why? Why did you sell me out? What the hell? You know it was my turn. You led me on like that.”

  “He’s right, Terry. Everyone knows that you promised him,” Daniel said.

  “They don’t think you’ll have public appeal.”

  “What?”

  “Public appeal, it wouldn’t be with you. It’s irrelevant. That’s what the hell I’ve been talking about, which you weren’t interested in hearing at all. I feel bad for myself. But I feel worse

  for you.”

  “I, I, don’t understand. How the hell would they know? What am I too curt? What is it? I speak well. I’ve got a beautiful fiancé. What the fuck is it? Do I have B.O.?”

  “It’s the goddamn scar, Peter! People are ignorant. You look like a goddamn terrorist. You’re the fuckin’ elephant man.”

  “Jesus, Terry. Take it easy. That’s a huge overstatement,” Daniel said.

  “It’s the constituency. It’s the ignorant voters.” It’s the Silent Majority, Daniel thought. “Your career would best be served as a statesman. There’s no voting, you’ll just need an appointment.”

  Peter stood up and ran his fingers over his scar and muttered, “This is what I deserved.” Peter stormed out of the office. There was a dramatic pause. Bratton and Daniel were alone. The mood in the room dropped.

  “Daniel, you want to be a Senator? It’ll take a lot of commitment.”

  “I’ll have to think about it, Terry.”

  “Well the opportunity will sink in and you’ll come around. I know you better than you know yourself. It’s time that you get married to June. She’s a lovely woman cut out to be a Senator’s wife. In addition, you should adopt her children. You’ll be a wonderful father. I know you care about them. As of the end of next month you will be moving back to Florida. I’m relieving you and Peter. You both will be working out of the U.S. Attorney’s office. You’ll be involved in major criminal litigation. You’ll be working for the Justice Department for the next five years, ‘til the end of my term. You’ll work on some cases, get on some charitable/political boards, stay involved, and get some name recognition, the party will support you and you’ll win.”

  “What about Peter?”

  “He’ll come around and eventually get involved in your campaign. He’ll have enough experience by the time your campaign comes around. When you win, you’ll make him your chief aide. Just remember Daniel, keep your dick in your pants. Play things right and I think you’ll be on the road to endless possibilities. You’ll have a chance at the Presidency like I once had.”

  Daniel, still naïve, looked at the Senator and felt the Senator was gazing into a crystal ball of hope, and not forecasting any political reality.

  Daniel Carlson hadn’t spoken to Peter Spark in a day. But Daniel knew that he would see Peter at the formal affair scheduled for that evening. Daniel hoped with Bratton, Peter would come around.

  At the moment, Daniel was worried about June. Daniel was comfortable with June, and he loved her kids. He asked her to consider marrying him the night before. At first, she was excited. Then they discussed adoption of the kids, moving to Florida, and running for Senator. This took her by surprise. They spoke all night over dinner. She wasn’t sure about the adoption or moving to Florida. The whole package seemed to be questionable to her.

  Daniel revealed some deep things about the way he thought, his plans, for the future, and his past. He felt it necessary so she knew exactly what she was getting. Dating is dating; marriage is a partnership of a different kind. He didn’t want to give June surprises after they were married. She wanted to think about it. Daniel felt that she would give her answer at the party.

 
A political party doesn’t have the same connotation as a regular party for a birthday or wedding. Basically, a formal party had some dancing, a lot of drinking, but again, not much warmth. The purpose is to gather people together to talk—network—make deals.

  Tonight’s party was in honor of the independence of Argentina. Daniel made the usual rounds and exchanged some pleasantries with some of the people he knew. From the corner of his eye he saw Peter standing off in an area that was being used as a dance floor.

  Peter and Daniel locked eyes. They stood and stared at each other. Peter took the first step toward Daniel. Daniel walked toward Peter. Peter smiled and wrapped his arms around him, and gave him a quick squeeze. The strong smell of scotch was on Peter’s breath. He was really drunk.

  “The American public wants you to blend, Daniel. Blending allows you to walk around and be liked by everyone. Blend to obtain general acceptance. Once you’ve mastered general acceptance. You can move onto the next level public acceptance. Public acceptance is reserved for a few, and only for a short time. But you Daniel, must decide whether you will go to the next level and strive for public acceptance. You must sell something when you decide to want it.”

  With a sigh Peter Spark said, “Fuck it, I’ll help you. We’ll move to Florida, and have a great time. We’ll prosecute some mobsters, right?” Daniel smiled. Peter was hammered but Daniel knew Peter was right. There was a sale. What was he going to sell? The day Daniel decided to be more than generally acceptable and strive for public acceptance, is the day Daniel Carlson decided he had the makings of a President.

  Daniel then saw June at the other end of the room. His killer instinct honed. One down, one to go. Daniel excused himself from Peter. He walked toward June who was drinking champagne and talking to some State Department official. She was pretending not to notice Daniel, but it was obvious that she was trying not to notice. As Daniel walked toward June, Melissa Spark grabbed him by the arm.

  “Daniel, can we talk?”

  “Sure, Melissa.” Daniel noticed her black dress with thin shoulder straps. Daniel always liked Melissa, but felt bad for her at times. She often took verbal or silent abuse from Peter. Now it seemed that she wanted to have a heart to heart.

  “June and I spoke. I think it’s wonderful that you asked her to marry you. We had a little tete a tete. I hope you’re not upset.”

  “No. I figured June might talk to you about it.”

  “Daniel, I think you guys will come together. I think you have a lot going for you. You’re bright and handsome, and have a gift of speech. You’re a really special guy, Daniel. You could make any woman happy. And those kids, they love you. I wish Peter would take the time to give us that kind of happiness. I wish he would be a father. It’s not how much time you spend with children, it’s an attitude. You have the right attitude to be a great father.” Melissa ran her fingers through the side of Daniel’s hair. She was drinking the same scotch Peter was drinking. “God and you’re going to make a great Senator. You are, Daniel. A suave, distinguished Senator. Mark my words.” Daniel was blushing.

  “Thank you, Melissa. I’m going to try to live up to your expectations. I think Peter will be great too. He has a wonderful woman.”

  “Come let’s dance. I think it’s exciting that we’ll be moving to Florida. Will you tell me about the cases you’re going to be working on?”

  “Sure.”

  “Because, I don’t think Peter will talk about his work at all. It’s some strange way of his.” The lights dimmed at a song change. Melissa slowly put her hand to the back of Daniel’s head. She pulled his head down toward hers and kissed Daniel on the lips. “You have a wonderful future ahead, Daniel. I’m glad I’ll get to be a part of it.” At the end of the song the lights turned up, and Daniel smiled at Melissa. His opinion of her went up just like she wanted.

  The man from the State Department left the conversation with June. Daniel walked over to her and took her elbow. She smiled.

  “Hello, my dear.”

  “Hi.”

  “You look wonderful. Uh, would you like to dance?” Daniel felt nervous. More nervous than when he approached her the first time they met. The mood was romantic. He felt like a fifth grader. The band had a string quartet. The band was playing familiar classical music. And in a moment, June took Daniel’s hands and looked him in the eyes and said:

  “Daniel, I’ll marry you. And I want you to be a friend to my children.” Gazing into June’s eyes, Daniel smiled.

  “I want to be more than a friend. I want to be their father.”

  CHAPTER 7

  Behind the Cross

  Should I ever divulge or cause to be divulged, any of the secrets of this order, or any of the foregoing obligations, I must meet with the fearful punishment of death and traitor’s doom, which is death, death, death, at the hands of the brethren.

  Florida is hot, and it’s not a dry kind of heat. It’s 89 degrees, and it feels like 99. The sun is bright and anyone can feel the heat from the sun directly upon one’s face—directly upon one’s face. Everyone drove a car. Daniel and Peter moved to Miami. June and a graduate student were sharing a place together in a make due apartment on Sunny Isles Beach, a small unincorporated community near Miami Beach. Melissa and Peter had been married a year and her family helped a little each month so they could afford a place with room for another child, who hopefully would be on the way soon. Peter’s parents had both passed away by the time he was eighteen.

  Everything was going according to schedule. Daniel was involved with various political clubs and benevolent organizations. This was a good start to get into the mainstream of politics. What Daniel and Peter were hoping for was to create or find a major case to get them name recognition so Daniel could go into the next Senate race strong. A young face getting involved in elderly residents’ politics was accepted. Every now and then some member of an organization would die, just due to old age. Even the self-centered curmudgeons who redefined themselves to a level of great importance allowed Daniel Carlson to lead by having a leader like someone they knew—like Bratton.

  It was the end of a long Friday and Peter was in Daniel’s office with his feet up on Daniel’s desk. Peter was smoking a cigarette. He thought that the job as a DOJ lawyer was a stepping-stone, but he was on a different mission from God. Some of the young Assistant United States attorneys plainly threatened anyone who went against them. Particularly, the assistants involved in drug enforcement. Public opinion painted the picture of the defense attorney as the unscrupulous one defending the immoral. Guilty by client. Who the lawyer’s client was reflected on the lawyer. A month in the Justice Department and Daniel thought differently. Peter and Daniel weren’t naive; they were just surprised that the intimidation tactics were all so above board. For example, a defense attorney who continually caused difficulty to their boss suddenly found he and his family were being audited by the IRS. Daniel didn’t use those tactics.

  Daniel learned to love litigating and prosecuting. He already helped another senior U.S. attorney round up some New York mob bosses who vacationed in Florida and used the phones, giving jurisdiction to the local United States Attorney. The hours were endless; but, Daniel was on a plan. With Daniel’s tireless efforts, the U.S. Attorney for the Southern District of Florida was now on the bandwagon, ready to help Daniel in his campaign for the Senate. Each day Daniel’s ability to blend increased, and Peter marveled. Admittedly, Peter was jealous. It was just odd that the roles between Peter and Daniel had reversed. Peter was the handler and Daniel was the master. With Daniel’s charismatic personality and help from a couple of party members, some of the higher-ups in the Justice Department Organized Crime Task Force were looking for the big case. Miami was a growing town in the late seventies. Fidel threatened to dump tens of thousands of Cuba’s undesirables on the shores of Miami. With an increasing population, crime was sure to follow. With weather like Las Vegas,
the crime would be organized. A crime issue was waiting. The plan was great, but some party members were getting a little itchy.

  Peter continued to smoke a cigarette as Daniel spoke on the phone to Elana Goldstein, a local Dade State Attorney. She worked with Daniel Carlson on the organized crime cases. She was told to reduce sentences on State cases, and agreed not to prosecute others, in exchange for cooperation from witnesses who testified in the federal trial. Peter smiled as he listened to Daniel’s side of the conversation.

  “No, I don’t think I can meet you for dinner tonight to discuss this new case with you.” Daniel looked up and smiled. “I know that you think it’s a big one. You think every case you have is a big one. You’re a twenty-eight-year old gung-ho prosecutor and you’re supposed to think that every case is a big case. The case that’s supposed to break open your career. The case that will shock America. I’m not making fun of you. I have plans already . . . Don’t you have anything else to do on a Friday night? . . . We’ll talk Monday . . . Okay, at lunch. Yeah, bye!” Daniel tried to speak with a tone of control for Peter. If he didn’t, Daniel knew he would get twenty-questions from Peter.

  Elana Goldstein was born in Brooklyn to a middle class Jewish family. When she was eight, her family moved to Miami Beach. Later, she was awarded a full scholarship to law school at the University of Florida, as one of the first women to attend that law school program. Elana Goldstein was a lawyer rich with idealism. She was attractive, with ebony hair and thick eyebrows that she thinned almost daily. She was feminine and had to tone it down in the world of law in which she worked. She was unique among even the few woman lawyers in Florida. There was a judge in the local courthouse who would ask a woman lawyer for her Bar card before she addressed the court, and that was on a good day. On a not-so-good day, he would ask her: ‘Are you a lawyer or a suc-retary?’ ” in a thick southern accent.